


Stitches

by sudbubbles101



Category: My Fair Lady (1964), Pygmalion - Shaw
Genre: F/M, Family Drama, Not Canon Compliant, Not all that ends well, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-13
Updated: 2018-06-13
Packaged: 2019-05-21 19:22:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14921402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sudbubbles101/pseuds/sudbubbles101
Summary: "It's funny how she doesn't realise that it's always been his adventure and not theirs until she meets Henry and climbs the pedestal he puts her on."





	Stitches

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer - I do not own either of these works

He had asked her when they had first moved in together; whether she thought it odd, and she had turned to him confused, because she didn't know what 'it' was. He had paused then and she remembers their conversation exactly. They had been sitting on the floor, their backs leaning against the boxes they had just moved, surrounded by empty wine bottles; toasts made to their new circumstances, and his words had a slight slur. She had thought it then to be the wine and effort of unpacking, but now she's almost certain it had been something else that had made him drop the arm slung around her shoulders. 

  "Y'know, this, me moving in." 

 She had recoiled, upset and scared that this was his way of saying he'd made a mistake and she'd said as much. He'd laughed then held her, reassuring her before restating his question. 

"I… it's not that I want to move out Liz, we've just unpacked. It's just, I don't know, don't you think it's a bit odd that I'm moving in with you… y'know, not the other way around?" 

She hadn't understood what he'd really been saying and had asked him why they would move into his studio when the lease on her townhouse was still good for another year. He had quirked an eyebrow and had gone to defend his question before releasing a breath and wrapping an arm around her.  

"I… yeah, just forget I said anything. I'm good, we're good."   

It's a few weeks later and she's talking to Clara whom she hasn't seen since Eliza called off the engagement to her brother. The memory of Clara's shocked face and Freddy's rising anger pierce her as sharply as the gilded edge of the Baccarat Freddy had thrown. 

"You made a commitment to this Eliza" 

"I'm sorry-" 

"What does it say about me that I can’t even control my woman?" 

"-I can't marry you"   

He had stormed out of his mother's townhouse cursing her name and she had grimaced at Clara, and murmured apologies to Mrs Eynsford-Hill before following. 

Eliza had always liked a challenge, but even she knew when to call it quits. 

She and Freddy had met through Clara a year ago and had been intrigued by each other almost immediately; she by his whimsical yet by no means uncertain attitude, and he by her youthful beauty. They were both strong willed and pushed each other, though she now knows that wanting to one-up someone isn't love. She also knows that when she started to feel like Freddy might push her over the edge rather than hold her tight she should have called it off, and she nearly did, but something about his 'the world is my oyster' attitude had drawn her back in; she had wanted to be part of his adventures (but really, she's just scared to go on her own). 

It's funny how she doesn't realise that it's always been his adventure and not theirs until she meets Henry and climbs the pedestal he puts her on.   

Freddy, according to Clara, had been spitting mad for three days and stinking drunk for the next four; furious at losing his woman, but had woken up on Tuesday with a splitting headache, had shaved and gone to work before bringing home a girl seven years his junior a week later. She had raised an eyebrow in question and Clara, choosing to ignore the obvious, "he moved on quickly didn't he?” answered by telling her about Julie the Florist. 

"She's a sweet girl but a tad shy and rather quiet; so different from Freddy, from you". 

Eliza in turn had ignored the hope in Clara's eyes because Freddy's always been the type of man to learn from his mistakes. 

Instead they talk about Clara's children and Eliza smiles as her friend glows when she swipes to a photo of Grace in a leotard. And even though she's struck by how perfectly domesticity suits her friend, Eliza can't help but think about wasted potential.   

The second time she gets a feeling that 'something's not right' is a year later when they're visiting Henry's mother and she's admiring a Cecil Lawson landscape with Mrs Higgins while he watches from the ottoman in the corner. She's never been very fond of his mother; probably stemming from their first meeting, when Mrs Higgins had praised Eliza at first for being both a mother and a worker but soured rather quickly upon realising it was Henry who looked after their daughter while Eliza went to work. Eliza still can remember her mother-in-law's face as she berated them. 

His mother's telling some story now about him and she catches Henry wincing. She puts it down to the natural unease one feels when their mother talks about youthful indiscretions but now she's not so sure.   

"I was always so worried about Henry, with his little art projects I'd wondered how he could support you and the baby, though I suppose you’re the one paying the bills."   

She had smiled uneasily, thinking it nothing more than an old woman's concern, but when they leave an hour later and he sits stoic as she drives, Eliza tries to brush aside the feeling that his mother's words struck a nerve.   

It's six months later and her dress complements the Armani suit she bought him perfectly as she makes rounds with him on her arm. It's fun to dress up and drink champagne and see the shadows that have sunk into her husband's face start to creep away, but when he’s addressed as professor for the third time in 30 minutes before he points at her, Eliza sees the doubts that had momentarily disappeared begin to sink their roots into Henry, paling his skin and digging trenches on his forehead. He says it's nothing but when she presses him he tells her that he's upset because of chauvinistic males stealing her spotlight and him having to point out her genius when it should be known. She kisses him hard then because she's so happy that her husband isn't jealous, but pleased with her success and she wants everyone to know how what she has.   

It's when she corrects Dr Pickering, who abashed, turns back to Henry and asks "so what is it that you do?" that she loses her delight and realises that she'd been blinded by her misplaced hope; because she doesn't think she's ever seen such an ugly look as the one that crosses Henry's face when Pickering responds with a polite “how nice". 

She doesn't care for lies so when they get home and Henry asks why she's been so quiet she snaps. She screams and cries and asks him whether he's jealous of her success because she's a PhD and he can't sculpt or because he knows he’s failing in his duties as a father and as a husband by sitting at home while she rakes in billable hours. It's their first fight and she regrets her words as soon she sees him reel but his calm manner infuriates her so she throws a vase at him. 

He gets four stitches and they don't talk about that night again.

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End file.
